Soundtrack of our Lives

There’s a song that ripples through my life – decade after decade. I never knew much about it except that it was beautiful, emotional and timeless for me.

It’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” by Percy Sledge. Is the tune coming to mind now? Can you sing the first verse? Bet you can.

The year was 1966, and I glided to it at my spring dance in the arms of Brad, the football hero who made me his first girlfriend. I was nominated for spring queen, but didn’t win. It didn’t matter. The prize was Brad and we had a wonderful evening together. Dancing to that song will forever be one of my best lifetime memories.

I’ve been thinking about this because of a film I watched on PBS last night called simply Muscle Shoals. This was one of the most emotional thought-provoking films I have ever seen on PBS. Filmmaker Greg Camalier has captured something that might have well escaped the history of recorded American music had he not passed through Muscle Shoals, Alabama.

Both baby boomers, my significant other and I cried through countless scenes in this film and relived precious times from our past. It is a phenomenal chronology of an important era in American history that anyone could appreciate - even if they weren't music aficionados. It is the history of a small recording studio near the Alabama cotton fields that held some of the most talented studio musicians of all time, and recorded numerous artists that were on their way up.

Percy was one of the first singers to record there and come out with a hit. Producer Rick Hall brought him in when he heard that this hospital orderly had a beautiful song. There is still a little controversy over who wrote it, but Percy made it a timeless classic. He came from the cotton fields nearby where he sang his heart out daily and was encouraged by other pickers to pursue a singing career.

What grabbed me as much as the music was the place itself. My parents grew up near there and often told me about the places they went on dates and the towns that welcomed young people to dance and meet each other. The film even featured the Elks Lodge that my parents talked about throughout their lives as the place that held such happy memories for them.

One scene showed the Rolling Stones coming out of a Holiday Inn where they were staying while they recorded at Fame Records with producer Rick Hall. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The times that my brothers and I had come from Michigan to NE Mississippi for important family events, found us in this Holiday Inn. It was the closest place outside the dry counties where we were visiting with our relatives, where we could have a legal cocktail.

Back to Percy. The song  again came to mean so much to me when I was in my 30’s, as I was in the relationship that would endure for many years. My lover’s long time best friend disapproved of me and did his best to break us up. “When a man loves a woman, can’t think of nothin’ else, turn his back on his best friend if he puts her down.” These lyrics endure to this day as I write this. Somehow, over the years we worked it out, and we are both still in his life.

I can’t finish this without speaking about the movie of the same name with Andy Garcia and Meg Ryan. He does love this woman who is solidly addicted to alcohol. I can’t mention my family history without noting that alcohol addiction has played a role in our lives. Woven in with the love and caring was the love of alcohol. I won’t sugar coat it. There were tugs of war. But, in the movie, love does conquer the addictions and other distractions and their love carries them through all the challenges and betrayals.

The background music of our lives often comes to the forefront when we least expect it. I offer you the film Muscle Shoals, and I’m fairly certain you will find some lyric from your life history that was recorded here.

Boomer Entrepreneurs

What would you do if you knew you would not fail? I heard this question posed on a favorite television program last Sunday, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. If you’re like me, you will be thinking about this for days to come.

The first thing that came up really surprised me. “I would take a math class!” I thought. Me? A person with almost a lifetime of math anxiety….Yes, exactly, because I would know going in that I was going to pass. So what if I wasn’t the quickest mind in the group? So what if I finished last? I wouldn’t worry about it. I would just go in there to learn. What a novel idea! Taking a class to learn.

I’m embarrassed to admit that fear of math has kept me from some professions that others felt I would be well suited to. Chemistry, physics, statistics……no way could I make it through one of those classes I decided. Or could I have?

Anyway, fear of failure – or loss of ones income or savings no doubt holds many of us back from pursuing what our heart calls us to do. I bring this up now because there has been much in the media lately about how we baby boomers are using our lifetime of learning to launch new careers or start businesses. From 2007 to 2008--the latest data available--new businesses launched by 55- to 64-year-olds grew 16 percent, faster than any other group, according to the Ewing Marion Kauffman Foundation, a nonprofit group that studies U.S. business startups. All told, boomers in that age group started approximately 10,000 new businesses a month.
The trend is so strong that the Kauffman Foundation predicts a sustained entrepreneurship boom, not in spite of the country's aging workforce, but because of it.

I’m guessing that many of us are thinking of entrepreneurship because we simply want to control our work lives and make the big decisions that had previously belonged to our bosses. And according to an AARP survey, one in six baby boomers who work for others hope to be self-employed at some point.

I can share one success story very close to my significant other and me. Our friend John who retired from advertising and moved to Cape Coral decided to do some prospecting in his home office. Before he knew it he had a successful agency with 10 employees. After retiring a second time, he knew his mind was too active to sit on boards or watch the waves. He parlayed his creative writing talent into a business publishing childrens’ books targeted to his areas of interest. His characters, Luke and Linda discover everything from banking to the beaches of Ft. Myers and Sanibel.

“I had the idea to write childrens’ books for many years,” John says, “and when there was plenty of time to research it and really think it through, I hatched my discovery idea.” “It took 2 years to get the first book in print, but now I have 6 in distribution, and I’m working on three more.” “The business is in the black, but the great satisfaction comes from meeting people from all over, and signing and book reading events.”

John, with the help of his wife, began this venture at the age of 66.

Stories such as John’s are all around us here in Southwest Florida. Information technologies continue to make it easier and easier to work out of our homes and keep capital investments lower. Few of us mind that flip flops and shorts have replaced business suits and high heels.

Now, back to my initial question. What is holding you back from exploring that idea or adventure that’s been brewing for too long?

Failure is a very scary concept to be sure. But so is dying with your music still inside you. So, I will leave you with one of my favorite quotes. It comes from Henry Ford. “Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.”

Thoughts at Large

It’s that late winter time again when I have too much on my mind to distill into one column, so here are some totally unrelated thoughts at large:

•I thought the only good deal at the movies these days was the purchase of a child’s meal for $5.50. Turns out that with the AARP card there are better ones. Just ask the person scooping the popcorn. Oh, and do get the Regal club card. It’s no cost and you can earn free movie passes and goodies.

•Speaking of movies, tonight is my Superbowl – the Oscars! I’m rooting big time for Matthew McConaughey for best actor and Jared Leto for supporting actor from Dallas Buyers Club. It was a great movie, but my favorite this year was Blue Jasmine. Oh, and I’m also rooting for Cate Blanchett for best actress. These three were roles of a lifetime.

•I think many women boomers were/are Sex and the City fans. Most women I hang out with know most every episode by heart. So, I ask you, how can Sarah Jessica Parker roll out her new shoe line showing nothing but 4-5 inch heels? I don’t want to take my life in my hands in a pair of those do you?

•It feels as though I woke up one morning and all the newswomen (both local and national) looked like high fashion models and were dressed like cocktail waitresses. Somehow I can’t take a newscaster with dangling earrings seriously.

•Speaking of the news, a couple of years back the cameras at press conferences began making constant clacking noises – almost drowning out the speaker. Hard to imagine that our technology can’t come up with something quieter.

•Major events that I was glued to recently were the Beatles 50 year anniversary show and of course the Olympics. In retrospect, the segments I will remember and liked the best were the personal background vignettes. Loved seeing the Beatles when they were The Quarrymen in Liverpool.

•Have you, like me, been counting your blessings that you live in the only state that has no snow accumulation? Seeing those car pileups on slippery roads, causes me to complain less about our seasonal traffic jams.

•As a lifelong consumer of Triscuits, I bemoan how small the boxes keep getting. Do they think they’re fooling us? Oh, and now there are 10 or 12 flavors. Who needs this? Just give me the original family sized box.

•I just finished  the book “I’m Over All That” by Shirley MacLaine. She cites a phenomenon that she says is happening called ‘time shifting’ in which we are fooled by the sequence of time. This is very encouraging, because she claims that this is why we set out to do a task and then realize we’ve already done it. According to her, this is happening to people of all ages. Do you feel as redeemed as I do?

•Billy Fucillo our local Kia dealer is finally pronouncing our state name correctly in most (not all) of his commercials. Okay, so Billy’s not from here, but how do we forgive the Fox News voice over talent for constantly saying Southwest FlArida?

•Why can't our city get the big clock at the Cape Coral Parkway entrance to have the correct time? Nice greeting to potential residents.

•I have found one gas station that has pumps that don't require me to stand there and hold it for 18 gallons. Why don't most stations have these slots on the handles that keep the fuel flowing? Many of us boomers have a touch of soreness in our hands don't we?

•And finally, if only I could comprehend why my cat loves his wet food one day, and ignores it the next. The waste could feed all the feral cats in Lee County.

If you can’t identify with any of these, and have your own. Please share them with me via e-mail. I’ll publish the good ones.

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Non Senior Living

It’s been a tough journey, but my friend Linnea has finally arrived at the difficult juncture of life before memory loss, and today’s reality. She’s a people person, well educated and widely traveled, but finds herself in a very lonely place. That place is her beautiful sprawling home in single-family suburbia where she knows no one except the people she greets as she walks her dog.

Linnea bought her home in the beautiful corner of Florida visualizing a more active life than she could enjoy in her upstate New York wintery climate. Shortly after moving here, she realized that something was not quite right. She would lose her way to places she thought she knew well. Although she’s only 65, she has been diagnosed with early dementia, and realizes that she has to make some hard choices.

This column is not about memory loss or dementia, it’s about the way that we baby boomers of all descriptions want to live out our lives.

After visiting many upscale senior living enclaves, Linnea was more than discouraged. She wants to have friends and neighbors of all ages. The places she visited were of course age restricted and felt very one dimensional to her. She’s physically healthy and active and wants to be near others who are.

In a conversation just last week, she said, “Someone needs to develop a community that is designed for us boomers.” I agreed, and totally understood that at 65, she just wasn’t ready for the mantle that “senior living” holds in our culture.

As if reading our minds, an article reprinted from the Arizona Republic addressed this very issue as I read my newspaper today. Scottsdale based DMB Associates is opening an age-restricted community within a greater community. Called Victory, and scheduled to open mid year, it will meet many of the needs that the developer has discovered that baby boomers are looking for.

Just as my friend Linnea expressed, DMB realized that his potential buyers didn’t want to live with people just their age who look just like them. They prefer work out spaces, hiking trails and communal opportunities over golfing. I found it interesting that this development offers 6 holes of golf for people who don’t want to invest 4 or 5 hours on an 18 hole round. This leaves more of the day to do other interesting things like knowing their neighbors.

The great places I’m reading about in other parts of the country are in Arizona or the Northeast. They sound so inviting. Some of the features include: wider doors and hallways; better lighting and bigger windows; first-floor bedrooms and bathrooms; easy to maintain exteriors and landscaping; technology structured wiring; home office space, and vetted service providers recommended by concierge services.

What I can’t figure out is why Florida isn’t on this bandwagon. We have traditionally been the retirement destination for the past two generations, and yet we are lagging behind. I want to stay here, and I would like to find a place with all these amenities. Equally important is the opportunity to be a part of a community. We boomers like interdependence. We don’t want isolation. Most of us went to college and had roommates and later housemates, and we learned to like that lifestyle. As I look back on my 20’s and early 30’s, the housemates I had became some of the best friends I ever had.

So, where do my friends and those of you who can identify go from here? We start asking for what we want in housing just as we’ve always done. Let’s not forget that as more of us get older, we are closer to reaching that critical mass that will allow us to demand what we want.

By the way:

•Four million 50+ women live in US households with at least two other women of similar age.

•There are now “aging in place specialists” so designated through the National Association of Home Builders.

•One third of we boomers will face old age as a single person.

•One in four of us is childless.

Elvis and the Beatles

My brother Bill remembers the first time he heard an Elvis song. He was 16 and had just walked into the Rendevous restaurant with his girlfriend Carole when he heard Heartbreak Hotel. He recalls their looking at each other in amazement and running to the juke box to find out who this was.

Now retired, both of them have fond memories of Elvis’s presence throughout their lives, and so do I.

When Bill was stationed in Fort Campbell, Kentucky as a paratrooper with the 101^st, when he and Carole (now his new wife) drove to Memphis on his first long leave. They joined others at the musical note embellished gate of Graceland, much like pilgrims at Mecca. To their utter astonishment, after just a short time taking pictures at the gate, it opened, and Elvis drove out in a Cadillac waving to everyone as he passed.

When the letter detailing this adventure arrived at our house, complete with pictures, it was a big, big moment for his little 8-year-old sister. Some of my earliest childhood memories have Elvis in the background being played on the 45’s that Bill cherished. I don’t remember if my parents had any objections to this. Bill could pretty much do what he wanted. None of us realized that he was in that generation that first gave teenagers their own music.

That’s right boomers, most of us were pretty small when rock and roll entered the culture. But if our parents were hip and we had older siblings, chances are that rock and roll is the soundtrack of our earliest memories.

I’ve been thinking about all of this because of the 50^th anniversary of the Beatles arrival in the USA. I’ve been watching the promos on television for the big show which will feature Paul and Ringo together. My friend Laura and I are planning our evening of watching it much as some plan the Super Bowl.

We boomers can claim the Beatles as our own. We have bought their records and followed all their escapades for 50 years now. Do you remember when you heard your first Beatles song? I sure do. I was riding in the car with my dad, and I was 13. The radio announcer was singing the praises of this British group which had 3 hit records on the charts. The first song I remember was I Saw Her Standing There. From there it’s a little blurry with I Want To Hold Your Hand, Love Me Do, and All My Lovin’.

What does stand out in my memory and my friend Laura’s was how much our dads hated the Beatles. Laura remembers crying her eyes out when her dad tore down all the pictures and posters she had on her bedroom walls. I remember my dad going into tirades when he would find me glued to my turquoise clock radio swooning over Beatles songs.

Wasn’t it amazing how threatened the establishment was by the Beatles? I look at that early photo of them in their neat grey suits – George with his unibrow and Paul with his cigarette, and they look so cute and clean cut now. Parents everywhere were crazed by their long hair, and the screaming that their performances evoked.

I’ll bet you remember where you were when you watched them on TV for the first time on Ed Sullivan. Fortunately, my dad was at work that night and so I watched them on our black and white TV – February 9, 1964. It was just my mother and me and a big bowl of popcorn. The anticipation was huge. It was all we talked about in school for days leading up to it. I remember feeling my heart beat so fast when they came out, and just being mesmerized. I also remember my mother looking at me quizzically and asking, “Do you really like this music?”

I really did. And I still do. Ed Sullivan and Dick Clark are no longer with us, but happily there is someone in charge who knows what this music meant to us boomers. So, tonight I will once again be glued to the television – now flat screen HD and wow – in color. I hope you’ll make a big bowl of popcorn and join me.

Boomer Samaritan Fired

What should have been just a regular workday for David Bowers, 62, turned out to

be anything but normal.

Bowers, of Gaylord, Mich., has been a greeter at his neighborhood Meijer Thrifty

Acres store for nearly five years. An admitted extrovert, Bowers has enjoyed

meeting Northern Michigan shoppers and interacting with his many co-workers.

Everything changed Nov. 14, when a customer rushed through the door and yelled,

"Do you have a fire extinguisher? My car is on fire!"

Bowers grabbed a nearby extinguisher, pulled the pin and handed the extinguisher

to Ken Kuzon, whose van dashboard truly was on fire. In 10 seconds the fire was

out and Kuzon was very grateful. The damage wasn't too bad, and he was able to

start the van and go on his way.

Things weren't quite so rosy for Bowers, however. The fire happened at 9:30

a.m., and at 2 p.m., he was told that he was suspended. His manager told him

that "his heart was in the right place, but his head wasn't."

He was being suspended, he was told, for leaving his post. Bowers estimates that

he was outside for about two minutes.

Two days later, the manager called him to come into the store for a meeting.

Bowers was fired. He was asked for his Meijer discount card and told that his

life insurance would be cancelled immediately.

Bowers was dumbfounded. His first thought: "Mr. Kuzon was a man who needed help

and so I helped him."

The manager then told him that his job was not to think but to execute. This

made no sense to Bowers. Then the manager reiterated that he should not have

left his post without permission.

This made even less sense. You see, Bowers' job description includes picking up

carts in the parking lot, shoveling snow, and helping elderly and handicapped

people with their purchases. All of these require him to leave his post.

Bowers admits that he did violate the store’s policy which states that in case of an emergency, he was to stay at his post, call his supervisor first, the store director next and to announce the proper code on the store’s public address system.

I can just imagine the headlines in the newspaper the next day, had he followed policy: "Van filled with Christmas presents goes up in flames while store employees refuse man extinguisher."

When I talked to Bowers last week, he still couldn't believe this had happened

to him. "There was a guy who needed help and so I helped him," he said.

I told him that every baby boomer that I know would have done the same thing,

myself included. We're offspring of the Greatest Generation who taught us to be

good Samaritans even when it isn't convenient.

I still get teary when I remember a cold morning when I stopped in the dark to

retrieve an injured cat from the roadway. I was crouched with him at the

roadside as cars whizzed by me. Then, there was a hand on my shoulder as a man

in his work clothes, about my age, asked me if I was alright. He had stopped his

big step van to see about me.

We determined that the cat had died, and we crouched there together hugging.

This big burly guy tearfully said, "You're a good woman." I answered, "You're a

good man."

I know that you now have a memory coming to mind of a time that you were in need

and were helped. Or maybe you were the good Samaritan.

These are stories that color our lives and make them brighter. People like David

Bowers brighten our lives, but his story sure dims the bulb.

Bowers is a retired postal employee who was making $9.30 an hour. He says this

past holiday season wasn't quite as happy, as his household is now missing about

$900 a month. During his time at Meijer, he worked all the holidays the store

was open so that younger people could have that time with their children.

"I loved what I was doing." he said.

I once worked for a large company which had what I felt was a miserable corporate culture, but I too loved what I was doing. When I would complain sometimes, people would say, “Well, if you don’t like it there, you should leave.” My response to that is "Bad situations are not made better by the departure of good people."

Two more things: Meijer is contesting Bowers' unemployment, stating that it was

his own fault that he was fired. But he did receive a Christmas card from the

company addressed "to our valued employee."

 

Upspeak

“Where did you get that terrific haircut?” I asked my friend Gail. Mario Max? she answered. I’m guessing the year was 1977, and Gail had been living in Southern California for a time. I realized that she was no longer a Michigan girl, but had embraced all that was the San Fernando Valley. Yes, my highly educated friend had somehow morphed into a “valley girl,” complete with the sing-songey voice cadence and the “you know” interjections. I couldn’t believe my ears. Worse, after being around her a while I found myself doing some of it. Yikes, I hate to admit that, but give me a break I was still in my 20’s.

I bring this up because lately there’s been some buzz in the media about “upspeak” or “uptalk” as it as come to be called. I refer back to Gail’s Mario Max answer. When responding to someone’s question, the answer comes back sounding like a question. Where are you from? You’re asked. Mt. Morris, Michigan? You answer with a rising pitch. Get it? I’ll bet right now you’re thinking of someone who does this often. Most likely it’s your granddaughter. You see, I learned from NPR (National Public Radio) and some online research, that this has become so widespread that linguists have now labeled it a dialect. Some are even predicting that as the twenty-something generation comes into power in the business place, that it will be fully acceptable.

I’ve been trying to decide how I feel about this. As some of you know, I’ve used this space to harangue about the over use of the word “like” and the useless use of the word “basically.” I can’t help it, somebody has to speak out about the decline of our language.

So, I will relate an incident that happened in my day job workplace. Two young women who I like very much were my co-workers one Saturday. Both are intelligent and educated. I was overhearing a conversation they were having, and both interjected the word “like” about twice per sentence. With good humor and no judgmental tone, I told them that I would give them each $10.00 at the end of the shift if they could eliminate “like” from their speech. They smiled and said okay, it’s a deal. They lasted five minutes and ten minutes respectively.

While both were noticeably embarrassed about it, they conceded that it would be almost impossible to undo this habit. They even mentioned that their parents are annoyed that their college educated women are sounding so schoolgirlish. The truth is that this is peer speak as I see it. If most everyone around you does it, you do too.

I now cite something my friend Carol told me about her high school senior Nick. (Nick was a computer prodigy who went on to attend Amherst and publish a book and become an icon at Google.) So, Carol would overhear Nick talking on the phone or to his friends in the next room, and he would use “like” every fourth word and other expressions that gagged her. Then, when he was just around the family or other adults, he didn’t do any of it. He was able to censor his vernacular based on his audience. She thought that was pretty cool. I did too.

Now, back to the upspeak controversy. It doesn’t annoy me at all really. I just file it with people with foreign accents. It’s just part of the fabric of our multicultural surroundings these days.

There is someone else out there though who eschews the use of upspeak. My old friend Judge Judy. Yes, watching her cut to the chase and expose the bad guys is one of my guilty pleasures. When someone answers her with upspeak, she replies, “You’re asking me?”

Health Insurance Woes

I know a few people who aren’t struggling with health insurance woes, but not many. As a middle class, middle American, mid baby boomer, I’ve noticed that what is happening with me, and those around me is usually happening to millions of others.

An artist friend has no insurance, but she puts a few hundred in savings every month. The idea is that she will use that if she ever has a serious health issue. We all know that that is a high risk solution.

A retired couple I know who aren’t yet 65, pay $1,800 a month for their health insurance policy. I can’t help but think that they could be buying a second home with that payment.

Then there’s my friend Julia who is one of the most intelligent people I know with incredible analytical skills and an advanced degree. She cannot figure out what Medicare supplemental insurance would be the best choice. She has spent hours poring over documents and websites. I can’t imagine how older Americans are navigating all of this. Many older people are not computer savvy enough to get through the Healthcare.gov mess. What about those who don’t own a computer?

I share these little scenarios because I know that you probably have similar ones. It doesn’t always come up in polite conversation, but it’s time that it does. The powerful insurance companies affect our lives in so many ways. For instance, I’ve delayed having an elective surgery that I need because my insurance won’t pay for my doctor’s facility charge. They will only pay if I go into a hospital. I can’t believe that the cost would be less. These rules make no sense.

As long as I’m in my complaining mode, I want to go on record as being furious about the insurance ads that guarantee that you won’t be cancelled. Gosh, that sounds great doesn’t it? What they don’t add is that they can increase your premium at will. One of my friends likened the insurance industry to the Gestapo. There’s no arguing with their rules.

So many had high hopes for relief with the Affordable Care Act. I suppose it’s possible that some day the glitches will all be worked out, but I don’t see it happening any time soon. One headline in today’s paper was “No Fast Fix For Insurance Cancellations.” It’s a sad state of affairs for people who had only catastrophic coverage. When I was a tour director, it was as an independent contractor, and I paid about $400 a month for that kind of coverage. That is no longer an option. Coverage must meet the ACA guidelines. Untold numbers of people who are self-employed are getting cancellation notices with no real options immediately available.

As I sit here typing this, I can barely hold my head up because I have a miserable respiratory infection with a fever and all the accessories. I have to have a written doctor’s excuse before I can return to work at my day job. I pay for the best health insurance policy my company offers, but it’s not a great help just now. Since I can’t get an appointment with my general practitioner for a week or so, I will have to go to an urgent care clinic. That will cost me $100.

Well, thanks for listening. I have to go have some miso soup, get horizonal and get well so I can get back to work. You see if I fall below 30 hours a week, I lose my health insurance.

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Smells of Nostalgia

I was catapulted back to my childhood as I tried to listen intently to the nice older gentleman who I was waiting on. My mind however was back in my Michigan house and I was hugging my daddy as he was all dressed up and smelling clean and wonderful. It was of course Old Spice, and it was reserved for special occasions. Meanwhile I saw this customer’s lips moving, but wasn’t really listening to a word he said. I hadn’t smelled that aftershave in years and I was in a nostalgic space that I wanted to preserve.

Later that day at home I noticed a USA Snapshot in my USA Today newspaper, listing the scents that evoke the strongest sense of happiness. Old Spice wasn’t in there, but I could sure identify with the three that were listed. Number one was baking bread. Oh, what a special occasion it was when my mother would make homemade bread. It was maybe twice a year, and usually a surprise. I would run from the bus into the house, and that aroma would have filled every room. The happy molecules were running rampant.

Clean laundry was the second most happy smell. This takes me to a summer day in our yard as I would play in between the big white sheets hanging on the line. There is no smell that even slightly approximates that.

The salty smell of the seashore was number three. One of the reasons I always wanted to live here was so I could smell that glorious aroma anytime I wanted to. I have spent lazy days on Captiva marveling at the turquoise beauty of the gulf and inhaling that smell that seems to just cleanse the entire body. Feet in the sand brings a connection to mother earth that I believe renews the body and spirit.

I have two friends who share the great love of the smell of lilacs with me. All Floridians,  the beautiful purple flowers send us back to our Northern homes with this fragrant harbinger of spring and the impending summer. Conversely, lilacs made my mother sad because they filled her girlhood home on the day of her sister’s funeral.

I know that many people don’t like the smell of carnations because they permeate most funeral homes. I however love that smell. I was five years old and opened the refrigerator early one Saturday morning and saw a beautiful flower in it. I picked it up and put it to my nose and couldn’t believe how wonderful it smelled. It was the boutonniere my brother had worn to the prom the night before. That is where that smell takes me to this day.

There was never a time that everything was more right with the world than on mornings when I would awake to the smell of bacon cooking while a summer breeze fluttered my sheer bedroom curtains. I knew my mother and maybe my dad and brother were all up and sitting at the kitchen table, ready for breakfast, after which a summer day of freedom stretched before us.

There are just so many evocative smells that bring back such happy memories: Leather reminds me of the excitement I felt when I opened the box with my very first suede coat that my daddy had surprised me with. Jergens lotion takes me back to my one-room school where the teacher bought all the girls little bottles one Christmas. I can’t pass by a plumeria/frangipani bush without picking a blossom which transports me back to the happy times my husband and I spent in Hawaii. Avon’s moisture cream was my mother’s body smell, as was the perfume My Sin on her special occasions. I confess that I can’t smell those smells now without getting teary. Those previously happy smells are now tinged with loss and grief.

With martinis so in the mainstream right now, I can’t stand the smell of gin. You see, my forays into underage drinking in my senior year involved the then popular Tom Collins. A night of misery and vomiting ended that love affair. I’m guessing you boomers might have a similar story from your teen years.

When I stepped out of the airport in 1991 and inhaled a deep lung full of moist Southwest Florida air and saw palm trees, I knew this was home. I count myself as a very fortunate person today to breathe in that indescribable aroma and revel in the warmth of this beautiful place. All I have to do is open the sliding doors.

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